Inculpate Terminus: Innocence Lost
by Crookedhalo
Summary: Harry reaches the end of his seventh year, the prophecy still hanging over his head, as he waits for Voldemort to make his move. But when the move is made, will Harry be ready?
1. The Leaving Feast

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Inculpate Terminus: Innocence Lost

Chapter One: The Leaving Feast

A/N: This fic is derived from pieces written for Illumine RPG, and so I must give credit to my excellent cast for inspiring and plotting with me. And I will be trying to fill in the backstory as much as I can, so that none of you are confused. So… enjoy!

The seventh year students filed into the Great Hall, walking in pairs as practiced. Harry gave Parvati a friendly half-smile as he offered his arm for her to take, leading her down the aisle that had been created in the midst of smaller tables for all the families.

He was suddenly hit by a sense of feeling as though he belonged, and an even greater sense of loss as he realized that this was the last time he would be in the Great Hall as a student. His eyes wandered the hall, remembering the first time he had laid eyes on it.

He'd been so nervous, his biggest concern as to whether or not he'd get sorted into the right house, or a house at all.

He caught Ron's eye and grinned as he and Parvati took their seats at the seventh years' table, which had been arranged so it was parallel with the head table. That had worked out all right, really. He'd nearly been put in Slytherin, but in the end, he'd ended up just where he was meant to be.

He nodded to Parvati and then they took their seats, watching as the remaining students filed in and sat down.

Professor McGonagall stood, now in Dumbledore's old place at the head table. She raised her goblet to the seventh years, who stood as well. Harry felt a pang as he thought of the man that should be there, raising his goblet to them, as he had at the start and end of every year.

I"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

"Is he a bit mad?"

"Mad! He's a genius! Best wizard in the world. But he is a bit mad, yes."/I

Harry blinked, his eyes tearing up slightly at the memory as Professor McGonagall began to speak.

"A wise man once said that every ending is a beginning," she began, eyeing all of the students, her usually stern face shining with pride, her eyes the only indicator of the underlying grief. Her posture however was almost reverent, as though she were paying tribute to her predecessor with this speech.

Which, Harry had no doubt, she was.

"All of you sit here before me because you've earned this honour, this day. You've spent the last seven years working towards this. But you've also spent the last seven years helping each other get to this point. Look around you. These are the people you grew up with, the people you are forever bound to." she smiled solemnly and nodded to them. "You have laughed and cried together, worked and played, and grown together." Her smile faded as her expression grew more serious. "In looking around, I'm sure you've noticed the empty seats. There are some of us that should be here who aren't." Harry watched, certain that her eyes had misted over, even if he couldn't plausibly see something like that from the distance he was at. However, the small glance down at the chair she would have occupied if Dumbledore had been here was unmistakable.

Harry again remembered the man that had stood there before them so many times, through the good and the bad.

I"You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?"/I the memory whispered in his ear. He furiously swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, determined not to be seen with damp eyes, despite the fact that quite a few of the students were indeed sniffling.

"We have all lost someone or something over the years, but the ones we love never really leave us," Professor McGonagall continued on, echoing Harry's thoughts. "By continuing on and refusing to give up, we continue to honour them," her eyes again glanced at the empty chair beside her, "and the sacrifices they may have made," she added quietly, looking up and meeting Harry's eyes. "Remember that as you go out into the world," she continued, breaking the eye contact and again scanning the students.

"And remember that, through it all-through the losses and gains, the heartaches and joy, you have all forged a bond that transcends time and distance. I pray that you will all remain true to this bond. If nothing else from your years here at Hogwarts sticks with you but this, then we will have succeeded. Though," the faintest hints of a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, "I hope that you will not forget everything you've learned here the minute you're no longer required to take examinations and turn in homework."

A few students laughed, and Professor McGonagall's smile grew a bit wider.

But after a moment, her expression became serious again and she surveyed them, the pride again carved into her features.

She held out her hands to them.

"I have full confidence that you are all ready for what this world has to offer. So go. Live. Do the great things we're all expecting from you."

With one last smile, she nodded to them and then sat down, gesturing for the seventh years to do the same as the entire hall burst into applause, then loud chatter as the families settled in for their meals.

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione and, with a smile, enjoying himself in the moment, despite the events of the last few years, and the people that should be here but weren't.

The light atmosphere within the hall was very quickly broken, however, as all of the floating candles blew out and the hall was plunged into a darkness.

Harry stood up, reaching for his wand as a few gasps echoed through the hall, quickly followed by screams as the hall was suddenly lit up with several hexes.


	2. The Necklace

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Inculpate Terminus: Innocence Lost

Chapter Two: The Necklace

As Professor McGonagall spoke, Ginny watched across the hall, her eyes traveling over the seventh year table, beaming proudly as they fell on her brother, who was sitting next to Hermione, and was, for once, looking completely pulled together in his dress robes.

A hand went up to touch the necklace that she had received only an hour ago as her eyes fell on Harry and she remembered receiving the necklace

She turned the corner, sure she'd find Harry soon. She stopped short when her eyes fell on him, however. Talking to… Cho? She was surprised to realize that she felt a twinge of-something. She stood, watching them for a minute, and then felt guilty.

Of course he would talk to Cho. He had every right to. She'd been his first girlfriend after all, hadn't she? It only made sense that he would think of her now, when everything was about to happen. So what if she'd thought…?

It was silly, really. They'd shared a few dances at a wedding.

They were friends. Friends did that.

She'd just hoped… But it didn't really matter what she'd hoped, did it?

Biting down on her lip so hard that she nearly drew blood, she turned and hurried away towards the Great Hall doors, ready to slip out of sight and have a seat by her parents before the processional, as she realized that she was just happy if he was happy. Even if the person he'd decide to trust wasn't her.

Over Cho's shoulder, Harry caught sight of a flash of brilliant red hair and stopped. He glanced at Cho for a second. "Excuse me, but, could we finish this later?" he asked politely, and then hurried past her in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Ginny," he called, easily catching up with her, given that his legs were much longer than hers.

Hearing his voice, Ginny stopped, willing the hurt look out of her eyes as she turned to face him.

A small pack of seventh year Ravenclaws, chattering excitedly, hurried by just then.

Harry glanced up at them and then down at her, clearing his throat nervously. "Could I-uh-have a word?" he asked quietly.

Ginny blinked, surprised, and then nodded.

"Okay," Harry said, staring at her-at a loss. He hadn't quite expected her to say yes. After an awkward silence, he nodded and then grabbed her by the elbow and led her down the hallway, ducking into an empty classroom and closing the door behind them.

Ginny's eyebrows raised in surprise as she looked up at him questioningly. "Harry-what's-" she began to ask, but he cut her off.

"Just… be quiet a second," he said, digging into his robe pocket for the locket. "I'm sorry," he murmured as she looked slightly taken aback at his abrupt tone. "I just had what I was going to say figured out in my head, but now I've forgotten it all anyway, so… here," he said, finally finding the locket and holding it out to her.

Ginny blinked at the locket, her face twisting in confusion. "Harry it's beautiful, but what…?" she asked, looking up at him.

He flushed, distinctly avoiding eye contact, unconsciously kicking at a scuff mark that Filch must have missed, concentrating on that instead. "It was my mother's." He reached into his robes and pulled out his own matching-though slightly bulkier-necklace and showed it to her. He flushed slightly, now looking up and meeting her eyes, his own very uncertain. "If it works the way I understand it… Er," he flushed even deeper. "We should be able to find each other if we need to with them," he watched as she put it on, his eyes focusing on the crudely fashioned charm around her neck. After a second, he looked away. Her expression softened and she stepped towards him, pressing her hand into his and giving his hand a little squeeze. He looked up at her and then down at their joined hands with an expression that was a mixture of surprise and… was it relief?

"I love it," she said quietly, taking the necklace, which glowed as she touched it. "And if you go anywhere now, I'll find you," she said, her chin setting stubbornly as she fastened it around her neck.

Harry grinned sheepishly, laughing until he met her eyes. He just held her gaze for a moment, unconsciously moving in…

CLANG! CLANG!

Both heads snapped up and only then did Ginny realize that their faces had been inches from each other. She looked at Harry, eyes wide. "The procession is starting! We have to hurry!" she said frantically.

And with that, they both dashed from the room, their hands joined until right before they ran into a large line of seventh years. Ginny quickly dropped Harry's hand as they nearly careened into Neville Longbottom, who was standing with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan.

Harry glanced at her in surprise, as he realized he hadn't even been aware that they'd still been holding hands.

Ginny looked up at him and then stood on her tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the cheek. "We'll talk after the feast," she whispered, and then turned and disappeared into the Great Hall.

In the present, Ginny snapped to attention as McGonagall's speech wound down and suddenly… the lights went out.

She stood up, yelling for her parents to see if they were okay, the shout seeming to die as soon as it left her lips, drowned out by screams coming from all over the Great Hall.

She pulled her wand out and moved away from the table, hearing her dad conferring with her brothers, organizing them to go out into the battle, no doubt.

But her only thought was of getting to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"I'll find you," she had told Harry, and already she'd lost him. The necklace around her neck glowed, warming slightly as she felt herself guided towards the center of the hall.

"DISCUTTIERE!" a voice from nearby hollered, and Ginny had only a moment to recognize the blasting curse that she had discovered in one of the books on hexes she'd researched earlier before a loud noise sounded nearby and several students were sent flying. She dodged quickly to avoid the flying bodies, wincing as she tried not to wonder who had already been injured and how badly.


	3. Great Things

Great Things

_A/N: Much credit for this chapter is due to my co-conspirators (who write far better Ron and Hermione than I do) Stacey and Steph. Without them, this probably would be a fairly crappy fic. So… this one's for you, guys!_

_"Go. Do the great things we're all expecting of you."_

Harry jumped to his feet as soon as the lights went off in the hall, his wand out from his pocket in one fluid motion.   
  
He should have known, he thought to himself angrily.   
  
He knew this was coming. He should have known this would be the when and the where.  
  
It was so bloody obvious, that anyone with half a brain would have made the connection, he chided himself.  
  
But no one **had** made the connection. Not the Order, not McGonagall, not even Hermione.   
  
_Dumbledore would have._   
  
But the would-haves and should-haves didn't matter much now, did they?   
  
He glanced over at his classmates to see if they were all right, but they'd all gotten to their feet, wands out. A moment of pride surged through him as he watched Neville throw a successful hex at a cloaked Death Eater whose back was turned. He was pulled out of the musing as a hex whizzed by him, narrowly grazing his ear. He turned towards the offending Death Eater, easily taking him out with a leg locker curse as he fought his way to Ron and Hermione.   

"Harry!" Ginny's voice called, as she appeared by his side. He looked down at her, at once glad to see her and frustrated that she'd willingly thrown herself into the center of it all.  
  
But it didn't really matter now.   
  
"C'mon, we need to get to your brother," he said under his breath, beginning to throw hexes at the hooded figures that had invaded the dining area as he fought his way to Ron.  
  
"You all right?" he asked under his breath, finally reaching his best friend's side, and determinedly staying there, continuing to dodge hexes and throw out some of his own, so caught up in sticking with Ron that he didn't notice the girls getting pushed and jostled in the opposite direction, several of the participants in the fray coming between the two pairs as they fought the invaders with every last bit of determination.

He and Ron pushed forward, easily falling into synch as they hexed everyone in their path. Harry felt a small sense of satisfaction watching a few of the faceless Death Eaters fall to his wand, but it was brief as his mind turned yet again to the task that was looming ever nearer.

He glanced around the room. If Voldemort even showed his face. So far, there had been no hint of the attackers' leader.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron's voice jarred him out of his scan of the room. He looked at his best friend, eyes widening as he realized that neither Hermione nor Ginny were anywhere in sight.

"I don't know, we need to-"he began but was cut off as a sharp pain ripped through his forehead. He lost the ability to concentrate on anything else as he looked up, gripping his wand so tightly it felt as thought it might give way and splinter under his grip. He didn't see the Dark Lord right off the bat. Nor did anyone else, really.

But he was here.

A moment later, a hush fell over the crowd, followed by several gasps and shrieks.

This was it. Harry set his shoulders, still clinging to his wand, eyes searching for the yet-to-be-seen foe.

Suddenly Harry felt someone brush by his side. He looked, noticing that Ron had stepped protectively in front of him.

"Ron, get out of here!" he shouted desperately, wanting to warn his friend before…

His scar exploded, white lights popping in front of his eyes as he heard a faint "Out of my way, foolish blood traitor," hissed.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Ron yelling. "You're not going to keep this one to yourself, Harry." And then more shouts as Ron fired off a Conjuctivitis curse.

'Imbecile!" Voldemort roared as Harry finally forced aside the pain, raising his wand yet again, moving to push Ron out of the way.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Time seemed to freeze as the words reached his ears, the entire great hall falling into a hush, everything slowing down so much that he may have been watching it in reverse, watching the green light return to Voldemort's wand.

And then time began to speed up again, all of the shouts of the battle assaulting his ears as Ron fell to his knees in front of him.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, his screams lost in the chaos as he watched his best friend fall forward.

But before he could make a move to help his fallen friend, a cackle sounded in his ear and he felt something cold and metallic pressing into his arm, as a cold, high voice hissed "It's time."   
  
And then, without warning, there was that all-too-familiar tug at his navel and the Great Hall and all of the chaos rushed past him, fading away as he found himself plunged into complete darkness. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as his surroundings slowly faded into view.   
  
"No. Not here. Not again," he murmured as he took a step backwards, nearly falling over a gravestone behind him, catching himself just in time.


	4. Protection

Protection

"Found it yet?" Harry's voice broke through Hermione's train of thought.  

Hermione barely looked up from her book, shaking her head and clicking her tongue impatiently. "I'm not sure it's an 'it' yet. I'm not even sure what it is we need to find, you know. And I won't be finding anything if you keep asking me every five minutes."

"How are we supposed to find whatever it is you're looking for if you don't even know what you're looking for?" Harry groaned.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to scanning the huge volume in front of her-most of which was in Latin, a language that she had just begun to grasp over the summer, through a correspondence course she'd taken. She'd figured it might help to not only learn how to do spells, but to truly speak and understand the language that was behind so many of the spells in the wizarding world.

Of course, even so, this text was barely legible, given that it was not the Latin that was taught through correspondence school today or even the Latin spoken in Ancient Rome. No, this language was archaic, most likely some fusion of the newly developing Latin and whatever language had come before it.

"I don't know," she said, sighing in exasperation, a bit of the hopelessness she'd begun to feel after hours spent in the library searching for… what? Some sort of magic cure? Some way of defeating Voldemort without risking Harry's death? "There has to be something. I'm just waiting for it present itself."

"Right," Harry snorted. "Like the answer's just going to fall right into our laps. Hermione, have you considered the fact that we haven't found anything because there's nothing to find?"

Hermione frowned at the bitterness in his tone, biting back a snippy reply about the fact that she was merely trying to help and that negativity would get them nowhere. She and Ron had been walking on eggshells around Harry since Dumbledore's death. For a few weeks there, he'd entirely shut them out and when he'd finally come to apologize, there seemed to have been an unspoken pact that they would do whatever it took to not drive him away again.

He needed them. They'd both agreed on that, and right now, staying in contact with him was more important than the fact that he was apt to streaks of irrational moodiness, directed at the ones that cared the most.

After, there would be time to put him in his place.

Or rather, Hermione held to the hope that after there would be no need.

In fact, Ginny was the only one who refused to walk on eggshells around Harry. Shortly before he had apologized to Ron and Hermione, Hermione had overheard Ginny putting him firmly in his place late at night in the Common Room when she'd woken up and remembered that she'd left a book down there.

Of course, she hadn't wanted to walk in on the row, but the next day, Harry had approached Ron and herself and apologized, so clearly Ginny's influence had worked well.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" Harry's voice broke through her train of thought yet again, and she looked up to see an owl plummeting towards them, seemingly having a difficult time flying in a straight line.

The owl dropped a package on Harry's lap, careened into the stack of the books and then took off again.

"Potter! Granger!"

"Oh no," Hermione muttered, quickly shoving as many of the books as she could in her knapsack as Madam Pince appeared, her face livid.

She waved her wand and the books flew towards their shelves.

"Enough. You two have been causing disturbances in this library all week. Out."

"But Madam Pince-" Hermione began, only to be cut off by a severe look from the librarian. "Okay," she said meekly. "Going now." She gathered up the remaining books-those she'd checked out that hadn't been sent back to the shelves, and walked out with Harry. She waited until they were a good distance from the library, glancing at Harry, who had begun to open the envelope accompanying the package.

"Who's it from?" she asked even as he crumpled the parchment angrily and shoved the whole package into his knapsack. His face contorted angrily, and he shook his head. She fell silent, knowing now was not the time to press him. With Harry, sometimes it was best to let him tell them things in his own time. And sometimes it was best to press. The trick was knowing the difference.

And now was certainly a time to let things drop.

A few weeks later, Harry had a vivid nightmare in which he witnessed Peter Pettigrew's death. He told Ron and Hermione of the dream and then withdrew into himself for a few days. None of them could get through to him. Not even Ginny, who seemed to have made it her personal campaign over the last two years to keep him from shutting them all out during his mood swings.  

But finally, when Harry seemed ready to pull out of his mood, he handed Hermione a journal.

"It was my mother's, and I think it might have something that could help us," he told her, and then looked away, the expression on his face making it clear that any further discussion on the subject was off limits.

Hermione opened the journal to the page Harry had bookmarked, her eyes scanning over the charm that was detailed in his mother's tidy scrawl.

"Harry, I think this might be what we've been looking for!" she exclaimed excitedly, grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the common room to find Ron and Ginny. "It looks extremely complicated, of course, and I'd expect it will be a long hard slog to complete them, but if they worked, Harry, you do realize they'd give us the space to win the battle, don't you? I mean, if they can deflect curses the way your mum seems to believe they can…"

Harry smiled for the first time in weeks, for the moment caught up in her enthusiasm.

The journal turned out to indeed be useful, and it might have been helpful if they had discovered it earlier. But, on reading the letter that Harry had left tucked in the journal, no doubt on accident, Hermione understood exactly why he hadn't opened the parcel in which it had been contained until now.

_Harry,_

_I'm certain I'm the last person you'd hear from right now, but I've risked my neck to send these to you. Believe it or not, I don't always break my promises, and this is one I realized I shouldn't break. I'm not sure if it will make any difference, but your father entrusted these items to me shortly before… the unfortunate tragedy. Do your best with them, as I'm not sure how long any of us can survive under him._

_Good luck, Harry._

_Peter Pettigrew_

_Wormtail_

The charm Lily Evans seemed to have developed involved combining herbs and a few other magical ingredients into a protective charm that would deflect even the darkest of curses, for a time at least. The necklace could only absorb so much dark magic before it would become useless, but the borrowed time might just be enough to give them time to fight back when the time came to do so.

The catch was that each student could only make one for one person. And of course, they would be no use against Avada Kedavra. Nothing so far, except for Harry's mum's sacrifice had been proven to combat that. Hermione, Ron and Harry had called together a meeting of the DA and explained the charm to everyone, Hermione watching as Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and a few others scrambled over who would make Harry's amulet. They'd exchanged a worried look as Ginny stood off to the side, both knowing that it would be best for someone close to Harry to make the amulet.

But Dean Thomas pulled Ginny aside, and Hermione turned towards Ron, her brow raising a bit. She was torn between Harry's and Ron's, but she'd wanted nothing more than to make Ron's since she had found the spell. She just couldn't trust it to anyone else. With one last guilty glance at Harry, who seemed a bit taken aback by the rush to be his partner, she bit her lip and looked up at Ron.

"Would you mind?" she asked quietly. Before the meeting, she'd pulled Ginny aside and asked her if it was all right if she made Ron's amulet, and Ginny had agreed.

The tips of Ron's ears turned red and he ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in several directions. She bit her lip to keep from smiling as she couldn't help thinking how endearing it made him look.

"Of course not. I was hoping you'd-" he stopped himself and grinned sheepishly. "Are you sure you want me making yours? I mean, I'm not exactly known for my excellent charms or potions work, you know."

"Nonsense," Hermione cut him off. "You do just fine when you put your mind to it. You just don't apply yourself as much as you could to those subjects."

Ron rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Hermione, school's nearly over. Don't you think it's time you stopped nagging me?" he moaned.

Hermione spent the next two weeks working on the charm whenever she could-even allowing it to cut into her studying and homework time, actually turning in one Transfiguration assignment a few lines short as she'd been up nearly the entire night before working on the charm. Something really worrisome had helped, as she'd found herself nearly faint from the exertion near the end.

She'd talked to Ginny and a few other members of the DA, but no one had experienced anything even remotely similar.

Ron caught up to her after class, his long legs easily catching up to her hurried strides towards the common room, without any exertion on his part.

"I think your essay might have been shorter than mine, Hermione," Ron told her, a bit of awe in his voice at the fact that she'd given less than her best on an assignment.

She flushed slightly and looked up at him, fishing his ward out of her backpack and handing it to him. "I was finishing this. Took a bit longer than expected, and I do hope I did it right. I was concentrating a bit hard, and I'm not sure if that might have thrown it off, but…" she stopped as he took the charm from her, their hands brushing slightly. Her cheeks burned and she looked away, feeling very silly, only to look back a second later and feel his eyes on her.

After a second of mutual staring, he cleared his throat, his face slowly reddening to match the colour of his hair as he thrust his hand into his bag, coming up a few seconds later with her own protective necklace. "Here, I finished yours too," he muttered, still blushing inexplicably as she looked it over.

After a few minutes of walking in awkward silence, Ron spoke up again. "Do you really think these things will do the trick?"

"I hope so," Hermione replied, her brow furrowing in concern. "If we're going to stand by Harry, we're going to need all the help we can get. I'm afraid what we're going to be facing will be far worse than the end of our fifth year."

They both fell into an uneasy silence for a moment. There had been an unspoken rule between the three of them to never bring up the events of their fifth year. As frustrated as it made Hermione that the two boys were so clammed up on the subject, she understood Harry's need to deal with the death of Sirius in his own way. And the memory of nearly losing three of the people she cared about most that night still haunted her.

"Can you believe he still thinks we should back off?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.

"He just wants to protect us," Hermione said gently. Her brow furrowed again, a concerned look crossing her face. "Harry keeps thinking that just because he's the only one mentioned in the prophecy, he's meant to do this alone."

"Well he needs to buck up and realize that we're his friends, and we don't want to be anywhere else but at his side when the time comes," Ron said, his fist closing around the amulet fairly tightly in frustration.

Hermione reached out and gently pried his fingers off it, easing the grip. Again, she noticed the touch and looked up at him sheepishly, her face burning now.

"Don't want to break that," she murmured, wishing he would stop staring at her like she had a bit of trifle on her face.

"Right. Sorry," Ron said, his face matching hers as he looked away, much more gently putting the protective amulet into his bag.

"Well, when the time comes, he won't have a choice as far as us being at his side," he said with a decisive nod.

In the present, Hermione sprang to her feet as soon as the lights went out in the Great Hall.

"Ron? Harry?" she called, fighting her way through the chaos as her brain quickly processed what was going on. From the corner of her eye, she spotted someone moving towards her, but before she could turn and react, a hex was whispered and an orange light slammed into her. She stumbled slightly as the curse slammed into her, but otherwise felt no side-effects, the charm fastened around her neck burning slightly as it did its job.

In spite of the situation around her, she grinned. It worked! The charm had worked!

She threw off a few expertly aimed hexes, fighting her way through the hooded Death Eaters, until she nearly ran into Ginny.

"Hermione! Are you all right?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide as she followed closely behind Harry and Ron.

"As good as can be expected," Hermione replied, her eyes trained on Ron and Harry, determined not to let either boy out of her sight. She wouldn't be left behind. Not in this. "The amulets work!" she told Ginny quickly.

"I know. Lucius Malfoy attempted to hit me with Relashio on my way over here," Ginny replied. As she spoke, an arm reached out to grab her, her defiant scream muffled as Lucius Malfoy's arm covered her mouth.

"Ginny!" Hermione shouted, turning away from Ron and Harry and pointing her wand at Lucius Malfoy, attempting to get a good aim as she fired off the body binding curse.

Instead, the curse hit Ginny, her amulet glowing as she struggled against Lucius Malfoy.

Realizing her wand would be useless with Ginny in the way, Hermione stuffed it in her pocket for the time being and dove at the pair, kicking at Malfoy's shins in an attempt to get him to release Ginny.

"STUPEFY!" a voice yelled from behind them, and Lucius instantly crumpled, releasing Ginny. "We've got this one!" Anthony Goldstein, followed closely by Terry Boot and Michael Corner, shouted. "Go help Harry," he told the girls with a nod, even as another Death Eater undid the curse on Malfoy, who recovered and whirled on the boys, attempting to Crucio Anthony.

"Hermione, we've got to go!" Ginny shouted, grabbing at Hermione's arm, throwing one last concerned look at the boys, who were holding their own, their amulets clearly working.

But for how long? They could only absorb so much. Five hexes at most.

Hermione raised her wand to help out when suddenly she was hit by the most sickening feeling. She dropped to her knees, convulsing in spasms of pain as flashes of the boy with ginger hair flew past her eyes.

_"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it." _

_"You're a girl, Hermione." _

_"Oh well spotted, Ron."_

_"You know the solution, don't you? Next time, ask me first and not as a last resort!"_

_"Books and schoolwork!__ That's my specialty. You two are going to get to the last fight and you're going to leave me behind because I can't defend myself as well, I know it," her voice sobbed in her ear._

_"Hermione-we wouldn't-that's not-Hermione, we'd never leave you behind. I promise." _

"Hermione!" someone's voice broke through her thoughts, a hand shaking her shoulder urgently. "Hermione, wake up!"

She blinked, looking at Ginny. "Ron," she choked out, her senses beginning to come back as her legs started moving, every fiber of her body needing to get there. "We need to get to Ron," she said, pulling Ginny along as she pushed her way through the crowd in the Great Hall, dodging the fallen bodies of both Death Eaters and students as she ran.


	5. Where It Begins

Where It Begins

_Harry,  
Er. This is a very odd letter to write, as you're next to me in your crib asleep.   
  
I pray that it will not be necessary, but with things as they are, I feel compelled to write it.   
  
As you will probably know by the time I read this, your mother and I have both spent our last few years assisting in the fight against Voldemort.   
  
Most people shudder when they hear the name, and I'll admit it gives me chills to say, or even write, but Dumbledore has encouraged all of us to use the name. It's a small thing, but yet it reminds me that we're not going to allow him to win.  
  
You may also have heard that your mother and I narrowly escaped with our lives three times by now in attempting to fight him. And that we lost both of our families to him.   
  
As I write this, I wish that I could write a different sort of letter. I would much rather tell you that life is easy, that there is very little evil in the world, and that the good guys always win out in the end.  
  
But I do hope that I'll get the chance to tell you myself that life isn't all bad. I'm already waiting eagerly for the day when I can teach you to play Quidditch. I'm sure you'll be brilliant. It does run in the family, after all.   
  
But if I'm not, I do hope that you realize that no matter how bleak things may seem to get, there is always something worth fighting for.   
  
Though I'd rather not admit, there have been times when I've contemplated giving up. Times when I've wondered if this war was worth risking everything.   
  
But I hope you understand that it is worth it. As long as there is evil in the world, someone needs to fight it.  
  
And standing by while evil is done makes one a party to it.  
  
But even through all the evil, I've still remembered that there is good.  
  
I have three wonderful friends. I'm sure you've met them by now. Peter's probably told you in great detail of our adventures, and Remus has probably helped you with your studies. And Sirius... There never was a more loyal friend. If you have one friend as good as my three friends, count yourself lucky.  
  
And speaking of lucky, that brings me to the enclosed gifts. Your mother and I exchanged these shortly before we were married. They're endowed with an ancient Celtic charm. When the wearers are truly in love, the necklaces will always be drawn to each other, allowing those who sport them the ability to find their other half.   
  
In times when I do not need to find your mother, however, wearing mine has reminded me that there is always something worth fighting for. I have already promised myself that I will do all that I can to ensure that if I can not be there myself to watch you grow up, your mother will be.   
  
And when she is, you will be the luckiest bloke alive. You see, there is no one greater than Lily Evans. She is, and always will be, the only woman I've ever loved. I'm certain you'll see it too.   
  
Lucky for you, she dotes on you even more than she does me. Lucky bastard.   
  
At any rate, I hope that you find someone as special as your mother, and that she feels the same way. Though, one piece of advice: Girls are stubborn. Sometimes even they don't realize what they want. Just remember that the trick is to persevere. If you continually remind them of what they actually want, they'll come around eventually.  
  
Of course, when they do, you'll have a whole host of other problems, in which case, the trick is to let them believe they're right. Always. Bonus points if you can maneuver them into thinking that your suggestions were their ideas to begin with.   
  
But I digress. When it comes down to it, your mother, and Sirius, Remus, and Peter are the four people that have always been there for me.   
  
And so if this letter does become a necessity, I am confident in the fact that you will be well-loved.   
  
And I hope you realize that even if I'm not there, you are still well-loved. Always.   
  
I also want you to know that I have faith that you will do great things. You do have the Potter determination, after all. I can already see it. You will go as far as you choose, and I have no doubt that it will be far.  
  
We Potters are well-known for our ambitions, after all.  
  
At any rate, this is a rather difficult letter to end. I'm still a bit taken aback at the oddness of it all, but, well, as you most likely know by now, my friends and I are no stranger to oddness.   
  
I love you, son,  
  
Your father,  
  
James Potter  
  
((Prongs))_

"Ron!" Harry shouted as his best friend fell in front of him, his screams bouncing off the suddenly noiseless Great Hall walls, returning to him, ringing of emptiness.   
  
But before he could make a move to help his fallen friend, a cackle sounded in his ear and he felt something cold and metallic pressing into his arm, as a cold, high voice hissed "It's time."   
  
And then, without warning, there was that all-too-familiar tug at his navel and the Great Hall and all of the chaos rushed past him, fading away as he found himself plunged into complete darkness. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as his surroundings slowly faded into view.   
  
"No. Not here. Not again," he murmured as he took a step backwards, nearly falling over a gravestone behind him, catching himself just in time.   
  
As he righted himself, his eyes scanned the graveyard, all of his efforts trained to keeping himself from wincing as memories of his last few visits here rang through his ears.   
  
_"Kill the spare."_  
  
_"Harry, take Fawkes and go!"_  
  
"Of course it's here," the soulless voice laughed. Harry looked around quickly, still not catching any sign of his foe. Attempting to not seem thrown off by this, he pointed his wand in the direction of the voice, only to be greeted with laughter coming from the opposite direction.  
  
"Don't you understand by now?" the voice taunted him. "This is where it begins. Death begets new life, new beginnings."   
  
Harry whirled around, his eyes frantically searching for the disembodied voice.

"My muggle father's death was the beginning of my new life, my true life. As will your death be the beginning of a new life for all of us. It will mark the turn of the tides, you realize."   
  
"You once told me that we weren't here to play hide and seek," Harry said angrily, his wand still pointed at empty space as the vision of Ron's lifeless body flashed before his eyes and a desire to strike out, to kill flared up in him. "Come out, and let's be done with it!" He shouted angrily as Voldemort went silence.   
  
"Anguis," came the whispered reply and Harry felt himself flying backwards as the cackle began again. "Done? We've yet to begin," the voice taunted.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed as they reached the front of the Great Hall just in time to see the flash of light as Harry was pulled off, alongside Voldemort.   
  
Her hand flew up to her necklace as she felt a small tug from that direction. She looked at Hermione.

"Go. Find Ron. Make sure he's all right." She met the other girl's eyes and then grabbed her hand, pressing a now well-worn sheet of parchment into it. "You're the only one I'd trust to ensure his safety, you know." And with that, she turned and hurried back into the chaos, making a beeline for the door, not having spotted her brother's body on the floor, mere centimeters from where Harry had disappeared.

Harry quickly pulled himself up from the ground, ignoring the pain that wracked through his body from slamming into the tree, his amulet sparking from the force. He glanced down at it quickly, thinking that it must have worked as he remembered the last time this curse had been thrown being far more painful. He gripped his wand tighter, moving back into the cemetery, again aiming it as his eyes searched for Voldemort.  
  
He caught a dark figure slipping between the gravestones and pointed. "RELASHIO!" he bellowed , now irate with rage as images of Ron, and everything else that Voldemort had taken from him accosted him. "FLAMENINIS! CONJUCTIVA!" he screamed as the figure darted between the hexes, gravestones exploding right and left.   
  
"Crucio."   
  
He barely heard the curse before his body convulsed in pain. The amulet, having absorbed all it could, sparked and then fell to the ground with an unheard thud as his body collapsed besides it, twitching uncontrollably.

Ginny finally made it through the doors out of the Great Hall. Once free from the melee within, she broke into a run, heading for the nearest office that was sure to have floo powder.   
  
She stopped outside Professor McGonagall's door and jiggled the handle.   
  
Locked. Of course.  
  
She pointed her wand at it. "Alohomora!" she said loudly, and tried the handle again.   
  
No lucky.  
  
Taking a step back, she pointed her wand again, determination flashing in her eyes. "REDUCTO!" she bellowed, wincing as the door burst into wooden shards, flying every which way.   
  
She didn't stop to pick up the pieces, however, and hurried inside, the necklace around her neck burning as the need to find Harry before it was too late grew ever-stronger.   
  
She hurried towards the fireplace, opening a few assorted urns before finding the one that contained the floo powder, and quickly grabbing a handful, tossing it into the fire hastily.   
  
"Little Hangleton!" she said loudly, stepping into it and praying that there was at least one wizarding household in the area.

"Have you realized yet?" the voice asked, floating somewhere far away, merely a tinny echo among the cloud of pain.  
  
Harry winced, trying to focus on the voice, make sense of it. As his mind began to grow clearer he realized that something damp and slightly smushy was pressed into his cheek. After another second, he registered that the something was in fact the earth, and that his entire body seemed to be bound to it somehow, because he was sprawled across it, and as much as he wanted to get up, he just couldn't.   
  
"Realized what?" he murmured grumpily, still concentrating on getting his limbs to move. After a moment, the harsh realization hit him that there was nothing holding him here except his own inability to move, due to the anguish that still clung to every bone of his body.   
  
Finally, he began to win the struggle against himself, beginning to push himself off the grounds.   
  
"That you were born to be alone. Marked from the beginning for this very moment." the voice laughed, coming ever nearer as he struggled to get to his feet. It's for the best now, isn't it?" the snakelike voice hissed. "Look what you've brought to those who loved you. I wonder if they'd say it was worth it, don't you?" The inhuman laugh assaulted his ears, the words hitting their mark.  
  
Harry closed his eyes as Voldemort continued. "Really, unfortunate incidents do have a way of befalling those closest to you, don't they?" he taunted. "Funny that they would continue to be loyal, until the inevitable messy ending, isn't it?"   
  
Harry's arms gave way as he again met the ground, his eyes squeezed shut, wanting nothing more than the voice to stop. Wanting nothing but to rid himself of the guilt.   
  
"Their champion," Voldemort sneered, the footsteps shaking the ground slightly as he grew nearer. "The one they'd die to protect, and what are you really?" He again laughed the mirthless laugh and clucked his tongue. "Just. A. Little. Boy."   
  
Harry's eyes remained closed as he imagined he felt the wand pointing itself at him, his own wand lying a few feet away, out of reach and useless to one who had all but given up.

"Pass the sugar, Miles," Bessie, a plump witch said loudly, her demands falling on deaf ears as Miles tuned his wife out, his eyes glued to the most recent issue of the Quibbler, the No-Nag earpiece he had ordered earlier that week from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes doing its job. He smiled contently to himself, enjoying the new piece and quiet.   
  
"Miles!" the shrill voice came again, still unheard.   
  
The witch pointed her wand, and Miles jumped as a coffee cup exploded in front of him. He looked up at his wife, one hand discreetly slipping the earpiece out of his ear. "What?" he demanded, his face irate.   
  
His wife's face flushed to that deep plum colour that always warned of an impending earful. Miles moved to slip the earpiece back into his ear, but didn't get the chance as the fireplace suddenly caught fire, the flames glowing green.  
  
And then, with a burst of ash, a teenage girl appeared from it.   
  
Miles and his wife both gaped in shock.   
  
It was Bessie who came to her senses first. "Who in the bloody hell are you?" she shouted, then looked to Miles, her expression clearly reading that this was somehow his fault and he'd better get to fixing it quickly before there were more explosions.   
  
Ginny stared back at the two for a second, a bit at a loss for an explanation that would keep Bessie from hurling things. But there was no time for awkward explanations. "Life threatening emergency," she said quickly, running for the door. "So sorry, I'll make sure to stop over and clean this up if I survive," she called over her shoulder, yanking the door open and disappearing outside and down the street before they could object.

Harry eyes opened as he felt himself roll over onto his back. He was now staring straight at the point of a wand, leveled directly at him.   
  
"You're ready to accept your fate," Voldemort leered down at him. "Ready to spare your few remaining friends of the troubles that befall those loyal to you."   
  
"DISCUTTIERE!" a voice hollered, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two opponents. With a loud blast, Voldemort was thrown backwards. Harry sat up, blinking in surprise.   
  
"Harry doesn't realize that he doesn't have the option to spare us the trouble of being loyal," came Ginny's voice defiantly.  
  
Harry looked up and felt his spirits lift instantly at the sight of the redhead, the previous thoughts of giving in evaporating as he struggled to get to his feet. Regaining his balance, he started towards her.   
  
"EXCERCIO!" a voice bellowed, as a red light flew at Ginny, slashing downwards, then in the opposite direction, creating an X of glowing red light across her chest before her eyes widened in surprise and she fell backwards, her mouth forming an 'O.'  
  
"Silly little girl," Voldemort laughed, moving towards them, wand in hand. Harry looked up, spotting the dark wizard moving towards them, his instincts springing to life. "You see now what happens to those who choose to stay by you, don't you, Harry?"   
  
Ignoring all the pain it caused, he leaned over and scooped Ginny up in his arms, running as fast as he could, ducking behind a mausoleum and laying her down gently, kneeling beside her.   
  
"Ginny," he whispered. "Please be okay."   
  
"Come out Potter," Voldemort's voice called. "You said yourself you didn't come to play hide and seek."   
  
"Ginny, come on," Harry hissed, even as the red X across her chest remained, still burning brightly. "Please," he whispered again, taking her hand and squeezing it, needing the touch even more than he thought she might need it.   
  
He stayed there clinging to her hand for what felt like hours, his resolve waning as he wondered if Voldemort could undo the spell, if he would only give himself up.   
  
Maybe that would be for the best. He was right, after all… Look what happened to everyone who'd stood by him. His parents, Sirius, even Peter, in a way, and… Ron. And now Ginny.   
  
They were better off. The prophecy was a load of wash. If it had been right, well, he'd have won by now, wouldn't he?  
  
Not to mention the source. Professor Trelawney was anything but a genuine fortuneteller, even if one believed in that sort of thing.  
  
Which he didn't.   
  
He stood up, letting Ginny's hand slip through his fingers, wand at the ready, but held in a position that would make it clear that he was turning himself in.   
  
As he prepared himself to walk over there, a soft trill sounded. It felt as though it had come from within, and at first, he thought he was imagining things.   
  
But then, he heard it again, and looked up, his eyes widening as he spotted a familiar flash of red.   
  
Fawkes the phoenix was currently soaring toward them, his song growing ever louder and more reassuring.   
  
But Harry had a hard time believing in it. Yes, the bird had saved him before. But this time, there wasn't much to be done, was there?  
  
He turned, about to go out from behind the mausoleum when Fawkes stopped short of him, dropping something at his feet.   
  
Harry looked down, spotting a flash of silver. But before he could lean over to pick it up, his eyes were caught again by the bird, who soared over to Ginny, resting on her, and bowing his head, nuzzling into her shoulder.   
  
"She shouldn't have come," Harry said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.   
  
But even as he said so, he watched as the phoenix began to cry. It stopped for just a moment, looking up to meet his eyes as if to say 'Well, go on.'  
  
Harry shook his head slightly. "It's over, Fawkes. You… did well. And you really did stick by me. Even after what happened to him. Thank you."  
  
But the phoenix merely cooed and bowed its head towards his feet.   
  
"What?" Harry asked, then remembered the object. He looked down and then knelt to pick it up, examining it.   
  
The all-too familiar rubies glinted at him as he ran his hand along the name at the hilt.  
  
Godric Gryffindor.   
  
And suddenly… he knew what he needed to do.   
  
Brandishing the sword in one hand and his wand in the other, he rushed out from behind the mausoleum, eyes trained for the dark lord.   
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" he bellowed, pointing his wand as he caught sight of the shadow-y figure. A blast, and the figure stumbled as a thin piece of wood went flying.   
  
"We'll finish this properly!" Harry shouted, tucking his wand into his waistband and crossing the distance between them, brandishing the sword.   
  
As he came closer, Voldemort raised his hand to a nearby tree.   
  
"The wand merely channels a true wizard's power, you realize," he said with a glint in his eyes as he broke off a tree branch. As Harry watched, the branch morphed into a sword, the leaves shifting and then finally settling at the hilt, transforming into emeralds.   
  
Taking advantage of Harry's distraction, Voldemort rushed forward, bringing his sword down for what might have been a fatal blow.   
  
But Harry reacted just in time, bringing Gryffindor's sword up to meet its foe, parrying a few blows before faking and then attempting to make a stab of his own.  
  
The two exchanged jabs and blocks like this for several minutes, the swords clanging as they met.   
  
Yet another powerful blow was brought down and Harry caught it just in time. Still holding off the blade, he met his attacker's eyes, green, human eyes meeting red slitted snakelike eyes. And then, it hit him.   
  
He needed to win.   
  
Everything that had ever been lost, everyone that had been hurt. It hadn't been because of him.   
  
It had been because of the snakelike creature in front of him.  
  
And he owed it to them to finish this. Tonight.   
  
Without warning, he moved his blade downward and then quickly thrust it forward, all of the anger and frustration that had built up over the last seven years fueling the blow.   
  
He released the hilt, staring in shock as the red eyes widened and his opponent began to fall backwards.   
  
The emerald-encrusted sword fell to the ground and instantly transformed back into a tree branch as Voldemort's body hit the ground.   
  
Then a curious thing began to happen. The body itself began to transform. The pale, thin skin smoothed itself over into an almost handsome face, the red eyes making way for hazel ones, open and staring at the sky above, now forever expressionless.   
  
Harry watched as the face of Tom Riddle appeared in front of him, lifeless and prone, the sword of Gryffindor protruding from his upper chest.   
  
He stood there, staring in shock at the man that had caused so much pain, and was now… dead, not registering what had happened yet.   
  
After a long while, a hand slipped into his and he felt a gentle squeeze.  
  
"It's over," Ginny's voice whispered to him. Her fingers intertwined with his and she gave him a slight nudge. "Come on, Harry. Let's go home."   
  
He threw one last glance at the body and then looked down at her and nodded, allowing her to lead him away.


End file.
